Hit em Up
by Dobby's Love
Summary: ok, it's freaky but funny, it's based on Tupac's song hit em up, and it's basically a rap voldy sings to Harry, haha, enjoy :0


First off, killed your pops  
And the mom you claim  
Dark side when we ride  
Come equipped with game  
You claim to be a wizard  
But, I killed your dog  
We bust on D.A. members  
wizzards suck for Life  
Plus Weasley tryin' to see me weak  
Hearts I rip  
Dumbledore and Pheonix Order  
Some mark arse witches  
We keep on coming  
While we running for yah jewels  
Steady wanding  
Keep on busting at them fools  
You know the rules  
Little Neville go ask you homie  
How i'll leave yah  
Cut your young arse up  
See yah in pieces  
Now be deceased  
Little Mudblood,  
Don't mess around with real G's  
Quick to snatch your ugly face, off the streets  
So scrw peace  
I'll let them lame-os know  
It's on for Life  
Don't let the dark side  
Ride the night (ha ha)  
Order members murdered on Wax and kill  
mess with me  
And get your caps peeled  
You know, See

_Chorus_

Grab your wands when you see Voldy  
Call the aurors when you see Voldy, Uhh  
Who cursed me,  
But, your punks didn't finish  
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace  
Wizard, I hit 'em up

Check this out  
You lame D.A's know what time it is  
I don't know why I'm even on this track  
Y'all children ain't even on my level  
I'm going to let my little Lucius  
Ride on yah  
stupid made arse D.A's lames  
ahh yo, yo, hold the heck up

Get out the way yo  
Get out the way yo  
Harry Potter just got dropped  
Little move past the mac  
And let me hit 'em in his back  
Dumbledore needs to get spanked right  
For setting up traps  
Little accident murderers  
And I ain't never heard of yah  
Poise less gats attack when I'm serving yah  
Spank the shank  
Your whole style when I avada  
Guard your rank  
Cause I'm a slam your arse in a pang  
Lupin weaker than a freaking block  
I'm running through werewolfs  
And I'm smoking Weasley's  
In front of yah homies  
With the ready power  
Tucked in my Guess  
Under my Eddie bower  
Your clout petty sour  
I push packages ever hour  
I hit 'em up

_Chorus_

Grab your wands when you see Voldy  
Call the aurors when you see Voldy, Uhh  
Who cursed me,  
But, your punks didn't finish  
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace  
Wizards, I hit 'em up

Peep how we do it  
Keep it real  
Its phoenix feather in wood  
This ain't no freestyle battle  
All you homies getting killed  
With your mouths open  
Tryin' to come up off of me  
You and the clouds hoping  
Casting Dark Marks  
It's like a Shermine  
Lamies think they learned to fly  
But they burn idiots you deserve to die  
Talking about you Getting Power  
But its funny to me  
All you wizards living fearful  
While you messing with me?  
I'm a self made Murderer  
Thug livin', out of Azkaban  
Wands in the Air Air (Ha Ha)  
Dumbly remember when I use to let you teach me in class  
And beg the child to go and join the school of Hogwarts  
Now its all about the order  
You copied my style  
Five curses couldn't drop me  
I took it and smiled  
Now I'm back to set the record straight  
With my long wand  
I'm still the wizard that you love to hate  
The boy who lived I'll Hit 'Em Up

I'm from Slytherin.  
Where plenty of murder occurs  
No points to come  
We bring drama to all you herds  
Now go check the scenerio  
Little D.As'  
I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees  
Copin' pleas with these  
Little Granger is yah  
Coked up or doped up  
Get your little Lame Trio click smoked up  
What the heck?  
Is you stupid?  
I take money,  
crash and mash through Hogsmeade  
With my Death Eaters looting, shooting, and polluting your block  
With fifteen cursed,  
Cocked wand to your knot  
Outlaw D.A click moving up another notch  
And your wizard stars popped and get dropped and mopped  
And all your fake arse order of the pheonix props  
Brainstormed and locked

You'se a beat biter  
Voldy style taker  
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing but a faker  
So fill the Alize with a chaser  
'bout to get murdered for the paper  
E.d.i I mean post the scene of the caper  
Like a loc, with little Dumbly' in a choke (uhh)  
Toting smoke, we ain't no mutha-smacking' joke  
Dark Life, Wizards better be known  
Be approaching  
In the wide open, wands smoking  
No need for hoping  
It's a battle lost  
I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off  
Wizards, I hit 'em up

Now you tell me who won  
I see them, they run (ha ha)  
They don't wanna see us  
Whole Dumbledore's Army click  
Dressing up to be us  
How the heck they gonna be the Mob?  
When we always on out job  
We millionaire's  
Killing ain't fair  
But somebody got to do it

Oh yah Weasley bro's (uhh)  
You wanna mess with us  
You Little young arse excuse for wizards  
Don't one of you brothers got sickle-looking or something  
You messing with me, boy ?  
You mess around and catch a seizure or a heart-attack  
You better back the heck up  
Before you get avaded the heck up  
This is how we do it on our side  
Any of you wizards from the order that want to bring it,  
Bring it.  
But we ain't singing,  
We bringing drama  
curse you and your mother smacking mama.  
We gonna kill all you mother smackers.  
Now when I came out, I told you it was just about Potter.  
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother smacking opinion  
Well this is how we gon' do this:  
Scrw Dumbledore,  
Scrw Potter,  
Scrw Order of the Pheonix as a order, aurors, and a mother smacking crew.  
And if you want to be down with the order,  
Then scrw you too. glares at Snape  
, screw you too.  
All you mother smackers,  
scrw you too.  
(take galleons, take galleons)  
All of y'all mother smackers,  
crucio you, die slow mother smacker.  
My fo' fo' (12 inch wand) make sure all yo' kids don't grow.  
You mother smackers can't be us or see us.  
We mother smackin' Thug Life riders.  
Dark Side till' we die.  
Out here in the Graveyard, wizza  
We warned ya'  
We'll bomb on you mother smackers.  
We do our job.  
You think you the mob, wizza, we the mother smackin' mob  
Ain't nuttin' but killers  
And the real wizzards, all you mother smackers feel us.  
Our stuff goes triple and four quadruple  
You wizzards laugh coz our staff got wands under they mother smackin' belts  
You know how it is and we drop records they felt  
You wizzards can't feel it  
We the realist  
screw 'em.  
We D.A killers.


End file.
